Call it luck — or just a well-calibrated crystal ball. "The Color Purple," slotted by Paper Mill Playhouse months ago as a last-minute season opener, has arrived at just the right moment.

The national conversation about male privilege, which played out on Capitol Hill last week, happens to be the same conversation Alice Walker was having in 1982, when her novel "The Color Purple" was published. It was no less pertinent in 1985, when the movie came out, or in 2005, when the Broadway musical was first staged.

But it's never been more of a front-page topic than it is right now — and Paper Mill's powerful, bare-bones production has the added benefit of uncanny timing. When one key character, the feisty Sofia, addressed the subject of violence against women with a ringing "Hell no!" she got scattered applause Sunday.

Part of what makes this "Color Purple" powerful is that it is bare bones.

The director, John Doyle, has made a specialty of this kind of minimalist staging. His much-talked-about 2005 "Sweeney Todd," where the actors played all the instruments, won a Tony. This spare version of "The Color Purple," which played on Broadway in 2015, won another.

It isn't merely that there aren't a lot of distractions: elaborate effects, scenery, costumes, razzle-dazzle lighting. It's also the attitude implied by that choice.

This production isn't in your face. It doesn't try to grab you by the collar and shake you. Instead, it forces you to lean in and pay attention. There are several moments when the stage is totally silent: "dead air" in another kind of production, but here, as in the moment when the heroine Celie gives up her baby, the silence adds to the power.

In short, the audience is pretty much compelled to turn its attention where it belongs. To the superb voices, which take the gospel and blues-flavored score by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis and Stephen Bray soaring. To the heart, soul and strength these actors give to their roles. And to the timely message of gender equality, built into the story of Celie (Adrianna Hicks), the abused heroine who evolves from a doormat to an empowered woman.

"Toxic masculinity" is a term you hear a lot these days. Toxic doesn't begin to do justice to Pa (J.D. Webster) and Mister (Gavin Gregory), the two prize specimens of "The Color Purple." They're strychnine and cyanide, respectively.

Pa impregnates daughter Celie, then forces her into marriage with the local hotshot, Mister — throwing in a cow in to sweeten the bargain. Pa then takes to molesting Celie's sister Nettie (N'Jameh Camara).

Mister, meanwhile, carries a whip around, and says things like "Wives is like children. Nothing better for 'em than a good sound beating." He treats his wife like a house slave, cheats on her, and also tries to molest Nettie.

The setting is rural Georgia between 1909 and 1949, and it hardly need be said that these cruel relationships mirror — and are an outgrowth of — the racism of the time and place.

But the gender imbalance in "The Color Purple" is doubly toxic. It's poisonous in itself, and it poisons the two things that might be a source of strength to both men and women in these harsh circumstances: family, and community.

Paper Mill's production is anchored by Hicks, who gives substance to Celie's pain, sly humor (the look on her face after she spits in her father's drink is priceless) and, ultimately, strength. She also carries the ball musically, acing the gospel flourishes and having fun with the Ella Fitzgerald high notes in the song "Miss Celie's Pants."

She's flanked by two powerhouse women: Carrie Compere as the scrappy Sofia, and Carla R. Stewart as the road-weary blues singer Shug Avery. All these ladies are formidable in themselves: together they're a match for any man who gets too big for his britches.

Some further shout-outs to Gregory as the obnoxious Mister, Jay Donnell as his more teachable son, Camara as the sister Nettie, Erica Durham as a squeaky lady named Squeak, and Angela Birchett, Bianca Horn, and Brit West as a trio of harmonizing, gossiping church ladies. This is an ensemble cast, and everyone is impressive.

The show's simple set — also by director Doyle — is very much on-point. It centers around chairs, the most basic unit of domestic life.

"The Color Purple" is the story of Celie's personal growth. But it's also a story about family, and about a badly skewed social order that rights itself. Even Mister redeems himself, and is taken back into the fold. "Amen" is the last word in the show. "So be it."

Which is to say, "This is the way things should be." Amen to that.

THE COLOR PURPLE

The musical by Marsha Norman (book) and Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray (music and lyrics), based on the novel by Alice Walker, directed by John Doyle. At Paper Mill Playhouse, 22 Brookside Drive, Millburn, through Oct. 21.